Smile
by attanagra
Summary: Hermione, ever the goody two-shoes, volunteers to do weekly Potions inventory for Professor Snape, but does she have a hidden agenda? SS/HG


Title: Smile

Author: attanagra

Pairing: SS/HG

Rating: NC-17

Warning: Shameless PWP

Disclaimer: JKR owns HP. I'm just an enthusiast. :)

A strange little smiled played on the young woman's lips as she adjusted her robe in the mirror. Her soft chestnut hair was pulled back into a loose knot at the nape of her neck, and she tucked a wayward tendril that had found its way out of captivity behind her ear.

Hermione Granger, Head Girl and undoubtedly one of the most talented students Hogwarts had ever housed, wove her way through the crowded Gryffindor common room, a casual air of authority about her as she side-stepped over eager third and fourth years on her way to the portrait. It was the morning of one of the last trips to Hogsmeade that year, and the weather outside could not have been better. Girls hid short skirts and floral dresses beneath their school robes, while boys flailed about uncomfortably in their overbearing black uniforms. Fifth years preparing for the looming O.W.L.s scowled from behind their textbooks, unable to contain their resentment for missing what promisied to be a pleasant outing.

The thought of what hid beneath the school robes of the younger students brought a slight red tinge to Hermione Granger's cheeks, reminding her of what she herself had chosen to don beneath her uniform. Nervously pulling the black fabric tighter about her, she rushed towards the portrait hole, only to find her path blocked by a broad chest. Much to her displeasure, the chest belonged to none other than one of her best friends, Ron Weasley.

"Now what's all this about? Don't tell me you're skipping out on Hogsmeade again! I told you already, blast the N.E.W.T.s! Even the great Hermione Granger needs a break every once in awhile."

She knew he meant well, she really did, but honestly, sometimes she just wanted to hex the living daylights out of Ron. "Look here, Ron, I seriously need to brush up on the last two chapters we covered in Potions – I can't for the life of me recall the non-magical cures for magical maladies and vice versa and Snape said it would be on the exam!"

"Potions, this, Snape, that! For all your brilliance, you seem completely defeated by that pissy old bastard's class!"

Once more, a bright crimson blush snaked its way onto Hermione's face, but Ron thankfully mistook it for indignation.

"Alright, Hermione, fine. Who am I to stand between you and your bloody books? Just don't be a sourpuss when Harry and I tell you about the bloody wonderful time we had." And with that, Ron took an about turn and stormed off. He could be just as cranky as his mum at times.

"Sorry, Ron! Tell Fred and George I said hi!" She shouted after him, relieved that he had relented so quickly.

Once out of the portrait hole, Hermione made a beeline for the library. As she crossed the large courtyard leading away from the Gryffindor tower towards the main castle, a pleasant breeze blew through her robes and caused her to shiver and pull her robes tighter about her. If she didn't make it to the library soon, her face would turn a permanent shade of ripe plum.

After she entered the library, Hermione wove her way toward the advanced sections. Just before reaching the N.E.W.T.-level Potions isle, however, she made a sharp left turn that led her to the corner of the library used to store books that had gone out of repair. Making her way past the untidy stacks, she finally reached an ancient wooden door. Hermione gripped the iron door handle with both hands and with some difficulty managed to loosen the rusted hinges and peel open the door to reveal a dark staircase. The door closed with reluctance behind her as she made her was swiftly down the flight of stairs. Soon, she was in the dungeons, at the opposite corner from the Slytherin common room. Ahead of her were the faculty offices, and she hastened her pace towards the familiar doors, chilled by the dampness of the stone walls.

The first door on her right, set a little aside from the rest with an ancient, grotesque brass knocker, was her apparent destination. Before she could grasp the knocker, however, the door flew open to reveal a sneering Professor Snape.

"Took you long enough, Granger. Come in."

Hermione smiled weakly, and allowed the professor to usher her inside the well-lit office.

"I apologize, professor. I awoke early to prepare," she said softly, sneaking a look at her professor, whose back was now turned to her.

"Prepare what, exactly?" His robes billowed about his feet as he turned a hundred and eighty degrees to face her. She had long grown accustomed to his harsh expressions, and had just recently gained the ability to divine his actual mood. The subtle angle of his right brow indicated that though he spat his last words, he was genuinely curious, and not at all displeased.

Hermione, relieved to see that he was not angry with her, smiled coyly and fingered the collar of her robes. "Oh, don't you remember, professor? Last time you asked me to prepare an inventory list of important ingredients that had been depleted over the course of the year."

His dark eyes followed the path of her fingers as he muttered distractedly, "Hm, yes, of course." Hermione watched with hidden pleasure as Snape ran a hand through his pitch black hair and walked back to his desk, pointedly fixing his gaze upon the open book on his desk. Her tongue ran over her lips, recalling his hooded gaze and the slight upward twitch of his lips as he regarded her moments before.

His eyes slightly unfocused as they stared blankly at the black letters, Snape slowly added with as much malice as he could muster, "If you would be so _kind_, Miss Granger, I believe you have some work to attend to." His long, elegant fingers motioned towards the hidden closet behind his desk that held an extensive supply of magical (and non-magical) ingredients for his Potions lessons.

Tearing her gaze away from his gaunt, chiseled features, Hermione did as she was bid and spoke the charm he had taught her to open the hidden door. Just as she walked in, she heard him add coldly, "And close the door behind you, please." Hearing the barely discernable hint of desperation in his last word, Hermione smiled softly to herself.

As the door shut and she turned on the light, Hermione went over her plan once more. Actually, it was less of a plan and more of a resolve to do something that had to be done. As always, the air within the closet was humid and hot. The containers used to store the ingredients were, of course, each charmed to retain the temperature and conditions best suited for preserving their specific contents, but the closet itself was filled with stale, damp dungeon air.

There was a very narrow corridor inside the closet framed with shelves on either side that reached high into the ceiling, filled with jars of all shapes and sizes. Hermione, with practiced efficiency, peeled open her already sticky robes to reveal an outfit that could make anyone blush the shade of the Weasleys' hair.

She tugged at the dress underneath, which had ridden up considerably, and adjusted it to fit snugly on her thin, curved figure. The dress was made of sheer dark blue lace that entwined around her body, barely managing to cover her upper thighs and was see-through except for the _vital_ areas. Tucking the wayward tendril yet again behind her ear, Hermione took a deep breath and launched her plan into action.

Severus Snape slammed his book shut when the door to the hidden closet closed behind Hermione Granger. He fell into his chair, his eyes closed and his fingers kneading the crease between his eyes.

Albus, that senile old fool, would pay dearly for this. Severus had begged and pleaded with him to assign him one of the prefects or even that pig-headed Head Boy as his assistant. But no, the Headmaster insisted that since Hermione Granger, the best Potions student Hogwarts had seen since Snape himself, had volunteered, it would be ludicrous to chose anyone else. No, it had to be that damned obstinate, dutiful, intelligent, beautiful, sensual young woman who served him in his office every Saturday or no one.

And over the course of the year, he had softened towards her, unable to distance himself from her innocent charms. Snape, for the first time in his life, had begun to look forward to meeting with a student, to exchanging a trifling greeting with one, to share the same air with one for even the briefest of periods.

'_DAMMIT!'_ This would not do, not at all, but he couldn't contain his arousal at the sight of her soft dark brown hair that fell untidily from her bun and tickled the nape of her pale, creamy neck and down further towards the soft protrusion of her collar bone, and even further to the hint of smooth, curved skin beneath her blouse as she bent to pick up the discarded vial and down – '_further and further into the goddamn depths of hell, Severus. Calm yourself!'_

Just as he shook himself out of his bittersweet musings, Snape heard a sudden crash of broken glass and a soft thud from within the closet. Within seconds he had uttered the charm and flung the door open, worry creasing his brow into a cruel angle.

He cursed when he saw the dark shape lying on the ground at the other side of the closet and swiftly bridged the gap between them. A broken jar lay beside her, and it was apparent that Hermione had knocked the jar down and it had struck her head, rendering her unconscious. Snape found a bottle of water nearby, crouched by her side and called out softly as he sprinkled it on her face, "Hermione? Hermione? Can you hear me?" He reached down to shake her, but rather than the rough cotton fabric of her robes, his hands felt something soft and warm. Hermione opened her eyes slowly at his touch, and weakly called out, "… Professor Snape… ?"

Instinctively, he kneaded his fingers into her breast, his lips letting out a soft hiss as his finger brushed against a hard nipple pressing against the sheer fabric. A soft moan escaped the 7th year as her professor's finger brushed against her aroused nipple, and she pushed her robe open further to reveal the rest of her dress, her hand slithering down to the wetness between her legs. The Potions master's eyes roved hungrily over her body, his hooded gaze filled with animal lust.

The closet was cramped between the two of them, and Snape found himself pressed against her. Straddling her with one leg, he pulled down her dress roughly to liberate her breasts. Kneading the two soft mounds between his long fingers, he met Hermione's sultry gaze as she quivered beneath him. Snaking her fingers through his dark hair, she pulled his head down and kissed him ravenously. His arousal was now painful and was pressing against her thigh, and he moaned softly as he felt her grinding her wet pussy against his robes.

He allowed her to suck on his bottom lip and when her tongue flicked out to taste him, he invaded her mouth with his own and deepened their kiss. Suddenly, she had flipped him onto his back and was attacking his robes. It was at this point that Severus Snape's mind cleared briefly from the cloud of lust surrounding it and the professor realized he had been lured by the clever witch right into her trap.

His voice strained with desire, he said, "I suppose I can indulge you this once, Miss Granger…" In response, the wicked girl quirked her lips into an ironic smile and pulled off his trousers, freeing his penis from its prison.

Gently stroking his balls with one hand, she help up his thick, hard length and asked angelically, "Please, professor… may I?" Hermione flicked out her tongue and licked the tip of his arousal, and Severus responded by throwing his head back and groaning with pleasure. Hermione delightedly watched as the cock twitched in her hand, and eagerly took the penis into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down and slowly easing Snape's length deeper and deeper into her mouth. Hermione could smell the unique scent of the professor's aroused body and reveled in the salty taste of his precum.

Snape's hands, which were entwined in Hermione's hair, suddenly pulled her head away when he could thought he could hold out no longer, and once more was on top of Hermione, his cock wet and slippery between them. His favorite pupil moaned as he rubbed his erection against the thin fabric of her dress, and he dipped his head down over her breasts and flicked his tongue out at her nipple. After teasing it sufficiently, he took he nipple into his mouth and sucked, and Hermione's loud moans filled the small space around them.

"Pleaase, professor…" she begged, rubbing her wetness urgently against his thigh as he played with her other nipple, arousing her further and further. When she thought she could take it no longer, he finally shifted his attention to her lower half, sliding his shaft against her clit. Her dress was hiked up until her waist, and he got a clear view of his penis as it pressed against her wet opening. Taking a firm grip on her grinding hips, he thrust into her, her pussy enveloping his length greedily. She clutched him tightly and moaned against his neck, pulling his head down into another passionate kiss.

His arousal was reaching a head as he thrust into her harder and faster, and she gyrated her hips to meet him. They were completely united in each movement, his tongue snaking down her neck and as he sucked on her warm, wet skin, he felt her moans growing louder and louder with each thrust until her muscles tightened around him and he climaxed in a wave of pleasure.

Looking down at Hermione Granger's thoroughly satisfied countenance, Severus Snape couldn't help but steal one last kiss before pulling himself out. They cleaned themselves up with a few charms and after straightening their robes, returned to Snape's office. He motioned her towards the visitor's chair before taking a seat himself. Hermione looked back at him, her lips twisted into what he now understood was her very devious smile, and after a long pause, Snape finally said, "Well, Miss Granger, I understand it will be incredibly hot next Saturday. I don't want you to… pass out again, so I suggest you attire yourself… appropriately."

Hermione nodded, blushing softly as she understood the professor's meaning, and stood up to leave. Just as she reached the door, the young witch turned her head back and added softly, "And thank you, sir, for your… indulgence."

Her coy smile left the Potions master staring blankly at the door that closed behind her, his eyes hooded and lips twitched ever so slightly up.


End file.
